A Little More Than Useless
by WeasleyWannabee
Summary: "I was right to leave. I had to convince myself of that, because if it wasn't true, it meant I had failed. It meant I had just lost my two best friends, because how could they ever forgive me for this?" My idea of what happened to Ron after he left in DH.
1. Why am I such an idiot?

A Little More Than Useless

**Author's Note: The inspiration for this title came from a song called "More Than Useless" by Relient K. I was listening to this song right after I'd finished Deathly Hallows, and was struck by how perfectly the lyrics described what I thought must have been going through Ron's mind before and after he left Harry and Hermione. I've copied the lyrics here—not sure if you'll agree with me, but I thought it set up the story nicely!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Relient K song.  
**

More Than Useless (Relient K)

I feel like, I would like  
To be somewhere else doing something that matters  
And I'll admit here, while I sit here  
My mind wastes away and my doubts start to gather

What's the purpose? It feels worthless  
So unwanted like I've lost all my value  
I can't find it, not in the least bit  
and I'm just scared, so scared that I'll fail you

And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all  
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all  
But then you assure me

I'm a little more than useless  
And when I think that I can't do this  
You promise me that I'll get through this  
And do something right  
Do something right for once

So I say if I can't, do something significant  
I'll opt to leave most opportunities wasted  
And nothing trivial, that life could give me will  
Measure up to what might have replaced it

Too late look, my date book  
Is packed full of days that were empty and now gone  
And I bet, that regret  
Will prove to get me to improve in the long run

And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all  
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all  
But then you assure me

I'm a little more than useless  
And when I think that I can't do this  
You promise me that I'll get through this  
And do something right  
Do something right for once

I'm a little more than useless  
And I never knew I knew this  
Was gonna the day, gonna be the day  
That I would do something right  
Do something right for once

I notice, I know this  
Week is a symbol of how I use my time  
Resent it, I spent it  
Convincing myself the world's doing just fine  
Without me  
Doing anything of any consequence  
Without me  
Showing any sign of ever making sense  
Of my time, it's my life  
And my right, to use it like I should  
Like he would, for the good  
Of everything that I would ever know

I'm a little more than useless  
When I think that I can't do this  
You promise me that I'll get through this  
And do something right  
Do something right for once

I'm a little more than useless  
And I never knew I knew this  
Was gonna the day, gonna be the day  
That I would do something right  
Do something right for once

**Chapter 1: Why am I such an idiot?**

"RON!"

It was the last thing I heard before I stepped into that compressing nothingness. When I landed, sharp pain seared across two fingers on my right hand. I glanced down to see that the nails were missing and blood was dripping down my fingers. _Must've Splinched myself. _I barely registered this fact because I was still seething with anger. I took a cursory glance at my surroundings, threw down my rucksack, and began to pace around and around the clearing I'd Apparated to. _What the HELL was wrong with him?! How could he act like it was no big deal; I though he fancied her? He _did_ break up with her_, my cynical half answered. _True, but I assumed that was for some stupid noble reason, similar to what he'd tried with Hermione and me. That he didn't want to have to worry about her while we searched for Horcruxes. Well, _I thought bitterly_, he's certainly NOT worried. After all, it was "only the Forbidden Forest."_ I laughed shortly. _Right. Not like we haven't almost DIED in there about fifty times. Not to mention the fact that Snape is headmaster at Hogwarts. You know, the guy who MURDERED DUMBLEDORE?!?!?! Oh, and there are a few Death Eaters who are teachers, but nothing to worry about there!_

I stopped to look at my fingers again. The blood was starting to congeal along the nail beds. Dimly aware that I'd worn a path into the grass around the edge of the clearing, I began pacing again.

_And don't even get me started on Hermione. I thought she was supposed to be the logical, sensitive one? But nooooooo, it was all about the Horcruxes, and the AMAZING discovery of how to destroy them! Which is all fine and dandy, except for one small detail: WE HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHERE THE SWORD OF GRYFFINDOR IS!!!! And even if we did, I wouldn't give a shit because _my_ first priority is my family. Who I thought Harry and Hermione cared about too, but evidently I was mistaken. Well fine, they can go gallivanting off together and save the world, I'm going back to the Burrow and then to Hogwarts, where I might actually feel like I'm doing something worthwhile._

Unbidden, the anguished look on Hermione's face as I'd turned to leave floated into my mind. I pushed it away, but my traitor subconscious simply replaced it with the shocked, hurt look in Harry's eyes after I'd told him I thought he knew what he was doing. _No!_ I reprimanded myself, _I was right to leave._ I had to convince myself of that, because if it wasn't true, it meant I had failed. It meant I had just lost my two best friends, because how could they ever forgive me for this? It meant …

_Oh shit_. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart pounding painfully and a sense of dread slowly rising in my stomach. _Ron, you idiotic, selfish prick. You are the most—_but before I could berate myself further, a twig snapped behind me. I whirled around, my wand raised, only to find myself face-to-face with a mean-looking bloke who had his wand pointed right between my eyes. Two others were flanking him, wands pointed in my direction as well. _Shit. What the hell have I gotten myself into?_


	2. It's true what they say: Karma sucks

**Chapter 2: It's true what they say: Karma sucks.**

I barely had a chance to react to the sudden appearance of the three wizards when the middle one yelled, "_Expelliarmus!" _ My wand flew out of my hand and he caught it before tossing it to man on his right. _Great. I just ditched my two best friends, and now I'm about to be captured by Snatchers. Well, I honestly can't say I don't think I deserve it._

"Where'd you come from?" the one in the middle demanded. He had a scar over his left eye, which lent a fierce cast to his face.

"Er…" I answered intelligently.

"Looks Muggle-born to me," the one on my left snarled.

I gave him a withering look—_as if that kind of thing could be gleaned from someone's appearance_—as I sized him up. He was rather large around the middle; I could easily outrun him.

"Hold it!" Scarface said, flinging out his free arm to prevent Fatty from lunging at me. "We don't want any more mistakes. Let's just take our time; it's not like he's going anywhere in a hurry." He grinned evilly at me. I glared back at him, though he unfortunately _did_ make a good point—I was outnumbered three to one with no wand.

"What's your name?" Scarface barked.

As my family was just about the biggest bunch of blood traitors in the wizarding world, I didn't think the truth was my best option at this point. "Stan Shunpike" I heard myself answer.

Scarface pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and began to scan it, lowering his wand slightly. Fatty and Bloke #3 moved in to peer over his shoulder, dropping their wands to their sides. _I will never deplore human idiocy again, _I vowed, _because today it is going to save my life._

I inched closer as quietly as possible, hoping none of them would catch me in their peripheral vision. As soon as I was close enough, I dove at Fatty, knocking him to the ground and grabbing my wand and his from his slack fingers. I knew the element of surprise would only give me seconds, and sure enough…

"_Stupify_!" Bloke #3 yelled, speaking for the first time.

But I was already rolling off Fatty, and his spell shot past me. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" I yelled from the ground, hitting #3 squarely in the chest. He fell stiffly to the ground as I leapt to my feet. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and threw myself to the ground again as whatever spell Scarface fired off whizzed over my head. I rolled to my knees facing him.

"_Avada Ke--"_ he started.

"_Stupify!_" I interrupted his killing curse and he fell to the ground. I remained kneeling there for a minute, shaking from my brush with death. Then I remembered that, while I disarmed him, I never incapacitated Fatty any further. I spun around on my knees, but he was lying where I left him, either too scared to move or knocked unconscious; I wasn't too fussed as to which. I glanced down at the wands in my hands and realized with some surprise that I'd been using Fatty's wand to take down his fellow Snatchers. Shrugging, I decided this must be a sign to take the wand with me. Suddenly, I jumped to my feet. _What am I doing waiting around?! I have to go back!_ I grabbed my rucksack, concentrated hard on the place I'd just left, and Disapparated with a faint _pop_.


	3. Ch 3 too many characters in the name!

**Chapter 3: Why should the worst day of my life end any differently?**

I reappeared in the forest I'd left earlier that evening, took one look at my surroundings, and swore loudly. I'd Apparated to the wrong clearing. I took off at a fast walk into the trees. I searched for hours, periodically calling Harry's and Hermione's names. Finally, I reached an area I recognized. I sped up, feeling excitement and apprehension in equal measure. However, as soon as I burst into the clearing, my stomach plummeted. There in front of me was a large square of flattened grass, but no sign of the tent I'd gotten so used to over the past month. What I had feared had indeed happened: they were gone.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" I kicked a tree to emphasize my final expletive and promptly swore again as pain shot through my foot. Hopping up and down on one foot, I considered my options. It was getting colder; I certainly couldn't sleep here tonight. I had no idea how to find where Harry and Hermione had Apparated to—_Ironically, I could use Hermione's brains right about now_. I thought back to my original plan of returning to the Burrow, and shame and guilt filled me as I pictured my parents' faces when I told them what I'd done. _Mum'd probably kill me on the spot_, I decided. _Unless Ginny somehow got there first_. No, going home was not an option. _I could go to Fred and George . . . but they'd probably maim me with one of their joke shop products._ It seemed that I was most likely to survive with all my body parts intact if I went to Shell Cottage. Bill, as the oldest, had always been the peacekeeper, least likely to take sides or tattle to Mum and Dad. I could only hope his neutral tendencies wouldn't desert him now.

For the third time that day, I fixed my mind on my destination and felt the suffocating pressure engulf me. A salty breeze lifted my hair and the smell of the sea filled my nostrils as I landed in front of Bill and Fleur's cottage. Steeling myself, I walked up to their door and knocked twice.

"Who's there?" Bill called, a touch of fear in his voice.

"It's Ron, your brother," I called back.

There was a pause. Then, "What did Fred turn your teddy bear into when you were three?"

I shuddered at the memory. "A spider," I answered.

A second later the door flung open and Bill pulled me inside. His face white, he immediately began throwing questions at me. "Are you ok? Has someone been killed? Where're Harry and Hermione? Were you guys separated?"

"Um, well, not exactly…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bill snapped.

"I . . . er . . . left." I finished lamely.

"Jesus Christ, Ron," Bill breathed.

"I know," I mumbled, staring at my feet.

"Do Mum and Dad know?"

"No, do you think I'm an idiot? Wait, don't answer that," I said quickly as Bill opened his mouth. "No, this is the first place I came." I sighed. "I was thinking you might let me stay here for a bit while I figured out what I'm doing."

Bill frowned. "It's obvious isn't it? You're going back."

"Right, well, that _was_ the first thing I tried, but they'd already moved on."

Bill sighed and shook his head.

"Look, I'm not proud of this, alright?" I said defensively. "Can I please just . . . stay here?"

Bill regarded me silently for a moment. I tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't quite manage it; I stared instead at his left eyebrow. Finally, he spoke. "Up the stairs, first door on your left. Fleur's out doing . . . well, I'll send her a message to let her know you'll be staying with us for a while."

"Thanks," I mumbled. I turned and climbed the stairs to the second floor. I pushed open the door Bill had described and glanced listlessly around the room. A bed was positioned along the left wall under a window that looked out over the sea. _Nice view_, I noted absently. Opposite the bed was a small dresser with a mirror over the top. A small desk and chair took up the remaining wall, and a plain red woolen rug was centered on the wooden floor. I walked over to the bed and flopped down on it. I lay there for an hour or so, trying not to think, before I finally began to drift off to sleep. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I half hoped I would never wake up.


	4. This must be what Hell is like

**Chapter 4: This must be what Hell is like**

Sun shining through the window woke me the following morning. For a few blissful seconds, I lay there half-asleep, my mind not quite caught up to the events of the previous day. When I opened my eyes and realized where I was, I sat bolt upright in bed. Memories of yesterday flooded into my mind, and a wave of nausea at what I'd done coursed through me. _Of course, the nausea could partly be due to the fact that I haven't eaten in about a day_. I slowly dragged myself off the bed, feeling something press against my leg as I did so. Reaching my hand into my pocket, I pulled out Dumbledore's Deluminator. _I'd forgotten about this. _ I placed it on top of the dresser before trudging down the stairs. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table eating a piece of toast and reading the _Daily Prophet_.

He glanced up as I sat down on his left. "Morning."

"Hey," I replied. Then, because I hadn't so much as glanced at the newspaper in months, I asked, "Does the _Prophet_ even have reliable news anymore?"

"Nah, it's just a habit," he replied, folding the paper as Fleur entered the room. She pursed her lips disapprovingly at the sight of me but didn't say anything. _Bill must've told her not to lecture me._ I appreciated this; neither of them could possibly know how much I had already beat myself up about what I'd done, or how I would continue to hate myself until I'd set things right.

Fleur kissed Bill on the cheek before turning to me. "Zere eez bread on ze table and tea on ze stove," she said briskly.

I nodded my thanks and rose from the table. I paused before heading into the kitchen; food no longer sounded appealing, despite my growling stomach. And I didn't think I could stand sitting there with Bill and Fleur, attempting to have a normal conversation when we all knew the situation was anything but normal. I mumbled something about not being hungry, and practically ran from the room. Bursting out of the front door, I walked quickly towards the seaside cliff upon which Shell Cottage was perched. _Maybe I'll starve to death,_ I thought. Then I laughed shortly. _I'm probably the last person I know that could willfully starve himself._ I reached the edge and stared down at the waves battering the rocky shore below. _Or I could just fling myself off this cliff. _Death had never sounded so inviting. But I quickly shook off the thought; my death wouldn't solve anything.

I sighed as I flopped down on the grass at the edge of the cliff, stretching my legs out in front of me and leaning back on my hands. I looked out over the sparkling water, and my eyes slowly traveled to the right where part of the cliff jutted out into the sea. I squinted against the glare of the sun and could just make out a dark splotch where water met cliff, which I assumed to be some sort of sea cave. I was instantly reminded of the afternoon of Dumbledore's funeral, when Harry'd told Hermione and me about facing Voldemort's Inferi in the cave where Voldemort had hidden the locket. As I'd done countless times in the six year's I'd known him, I found myself considering what I would have done in Harry's place. At first, I'd been jealous of his adventures. But now . . . If I was being honest with myself, I knew that I wouldn't have made it through most of the terrifying situations he'd faced. _Which is why he's the Chosen One and I'm not. _I smiled wryly. _That's probably why Hermione chose to stay with him, even though she'd had the same doubts as I. She must've believed we'd come up with a plan eventually, since we always have before. _Much calmer than I'd been at the time, I realized that we _had _made a significant discovery that day; a method for destroying Horcruxes brought us one step nearer to our goal of finally defeating Voldemort. Once again, I was reminded forcibly of the stupidity of my actions. _Was that only yesterday? _A lifetime seemed to have passed since then. My throat tight, I lay back in the grass, the heels of my hands pressed against my eyes. The rhythmic pounding of the waves below me must have caused me to doze off, because the next thing I knew, I was jolted awake by the sound of Bill's voice.

"Hey Ron."

I jumped up with a yell of surprise, forgetting that I was very close to the edge of a cliff. Bill grabbed my arm to steady me. My lips quirked up in a sardonic smile. _Almost got my wish._

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Bill said as he let go of my arm.

"S'okay," I responded, shoving my hands in my pockets. I waited silently for Bill to speak again; I was pretty sure he hadn't come out just to get some air. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat.

"So, you want to tell me what exactly happened between you three?"

I didn't have to ask him who he meant. "No, not really," I answered coldly. I'd had a feeling he wouldn't maintain his no-questions-asked attitude for long.

"Right," Bill muttered with a sigh. "Okay then." He turned to head back to the house, but stopped after a few paces and came back. "I forgot—I brought you this." He handed me a stack of toast wrapped in a napkin. "Figured you'd be hungry." He gave me a quick smile before retracing his steps back to the cottage.

Unwrapping the toast, I realized I _was_ pretty hungry, and proceeded to devour the food in two seconds flat. I stood watching the waves break and crash for a bit more, but it soon became an insufficient distraction to keep my thoughts at bay. I had to find something to do or I was going to go crazy, trapped inside my own head. _Now I understand how Azkaban drives people mad_, I thought grimly.

As I entered the house, raised voices from the direction of the kitchen caught my attention. I crept closer to listen, reaching the kitchen door just as Bill was saying, "—my brother, what do you expect me to do!"

"Well, 'e can't expect to be allowed to stay 'ere forever!" Fleur replied angrily.

"He'll be staying as long as he needs; I'm not about to turn him out to meet God knows what fate! He's family, Fleur, and don't forget, he's your family too!"

"No family of mine would do what 'e has done," Fleur hissed. "Dumbledore entrusted them with a meesion. 'Ave you even thought what effect zis may 'ave on ze outcome of ze war?"

Bill made an incredulous noise. "Stop it, Fleur. You're being ridiculous!"

I heard footsteps approaching the kitchen door and hurriedly stepped back as Fleur flung it open and stalked out. If she noticed me standing there, she gave no sign of it. I looked back at Bill, who frowned.

"How long have you been standing there?"

I shrugged. "Long enough," I replied shortly. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Fresh guilt gnawed at my insides as I considered Fleur's last words. "D'you think I _have_ messed things up, you know, with Vol—"

"DON'T!!" Bill yelled, clapping a hand over my mouth.

I pushed his hand away angrily. "What was that about?"

"I forgot you wouldn't know—there's been a Taboo put on You-Know-Who's name. As soon as you say the name, it somehow breaks all protective enchantments and his Death Eaters can track you. We found out about it when they nearly got Kingsley; he only just managed to fight his way out. He's been on the run—no one's heard from him these past few days."

It was my first real glimpse into what the war had been like for everyone else. After being isolated for so long from any scrap of news, it was a bit of a rude awakening to realize just how bad things had become. My mind flashed suddenly to the inexplicable appearance of two Death Eaters in a café we'd chosen at random the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding. _So that must be how they found us_, I realized. None of us had used his name since then, because I'd yelled at the others when they had._ Well, there's one good thing that came from my acting an ass,_ I thought ruefully. _Jesus, I hope Harry and Hermione don't start using his name now that I'm gone_.

"As for the question you were about to ask," Bill continued, "no, I wouldn't worry about that. It's just taking Fleur a bit longer to come to terms with . . . well, you know."

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't want to cause you any trouble."

"Then you shouldn't have left in the first place!" Bill retorted. I looked down, flushing. Bill closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Which you've already realized, of course," he added more calmly. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I deserve it."

Bill looked at me for a long moment, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Anyway, Fleur'll come around eventually. And I wouldn't worry about Harry and Hermione. I'm sure they'll be fine w—" He stopped abruptly, his ears reddening.

"They'll be fine without me," I finished tersely. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

"I—no, Ron, come on, I didn't mean it like that," Bill pleaded.

"Yeah, well, you're probably right," I snapped. I spun around, stomped up the stairs to my room, and slammed the door behind me.


	5. Time marches slowly on

**A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to my beta, Relik, without whom I would have several more grammar mistakes in this story ;) Thanks!**

**Ok, on to Chapter 5….**

**Chapter 5: Time marches slowly on**

For most of the next day, we all went around in a huffy silence, each determined not to talk to the others. I avoided Bill and especially Fleur as much as possible, spending most of the day outdoors. When I got hungry, I'd dart into the kitchen, grab something to eat, and duck back out again. I explored the grounds around Shell Cottage—nothing too exciting—but I was afraid to wander much because I wasn't sure how far the protective spells surrounding the house extended. On one of my food forays I noticed the _Daily Prophet_ Bill had been reading the previous morning on the kitchen table. Curious to see what sort of rubbish it was filled with these days, I grabbed it and settled under a tree behind Shell Cottage to read. _God, Bill wasn't kidding,_ I thought as I scanned the front page headlines: "Harry Potter: Armed and Dangerous," "Hogwarts Under Best Headmaster This Century," "Albus Dumbledore: Is He Really Dead?" _Sounds like the other side's got a Rita Skeeter as well. Although I wouldn't put it past her to have started writing for the _Prophet _again_. I began to read the article about Dumbledore:

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fell to his death last June from the Hogwarts Astronomy tower. Or did he? Several alleged sightings of Dumbledore have been reported in the past few weeks, lending strength to the rumors that Dumbledore used a decoy to fake his own death and is in fact still at large.

* * *

I snorted and laid the paper aside. Harry's face stared up at me from underneath the first headline. Feeling that it would be childish, I resisted the urge to turn the paper over. Instead, I resolved to check the _Prophet_ every day, figuring that was as good a way as any to keep tabs on my friends. _Harry's death is sure to be headline news,_ I decided. _Voldemort wouldn't want to miss any chances to have a good gloat. Not to mention the blow it would be to our side._

Trying hard not to think about that possibility, I munched on the ham sandwich I'd nabbed from the kitchen. Hearing the back door slam, I looked up to see Bill heading towards me.

"Hey," he said as he reached me. I didn't reply. "Listen, I owe you an apology for the other night. I—"

I held up a hand to silence him. "You don't owe me anything. You've already been more decent to me than I deserve anyway."

Bill raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to beat yourself up forever, you know."

I shrugged. Bill lowered himself onto the grass beside me. We sat in silence for a few minutes, then I suddenly found myself telling him everything—the fight I'd had with Harry and Hermione, my escape from the Snatchers, the discovery of the deserted campsite, my decision to come here. When I finished, Bill whistled softly, but didn't say anything.

"You were lucky," he said finally. I looked at him in disbelief; lucky was the last thing I felt right now. "Because the Snatchers that found you were few in number and, from the sound of it, not too bright," he qualified.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "That's what you took from all of that?"

"Well, no. But we've already sort of discussed the rest. I mean, it explains some things, but I don't know what I can say that wouldn't be . . . unnecessary."

I caught the veiled meaning behind his words; any criticism that had occurred to him during my explanation had already been said, either by myself, Bill, or—my stomach clenched—Fleur. Her harsh words rang through my head once again: _No family of mine would do what 'e has done._ "Oh," I said quietly.

"Look," Bill said with a sigh. "Everyone makes mistakes; I know that yours was perhaps bigger than most, but you're only human, Ron, and I'm sure Harry and Hermione are more worried about you than angry."

"They'd have every right to be angry though," I said. "I would be."

"I don't think anyone is going to pretend it wasn't a stupid thing to do," Bill said, though not unkindly. "But I think your friendship is strong enough to outlast this, don't you?"

"I don't know," I answered miserably. Bill opened his mouth, probably to try and convince me otherwise, but I cut him off. "Even assuming that it is, how the hell am I supposed to find them again?"

Bill thought for a moment, then shook his head grimly. "I don't know, Ron. It would be too risky to try and contact them, since obviously they're doing their best _not_ to be found. That's also the reason I think it'll be pretty impossible to track them down."

"Right," I replied dismally. I'd already come to the same conclusion, of course, but it was somehow worse to hear it confirmed aloud.

"Let me think about it," Bill continued after a short silence. "I'll ask some of the other Order members—you know, without giving too much away—and see if I can come up with something. Sorry I can't be of more help," he added, and looked it.

"No, it's okay," I mumbled, once again feeling like I didn't deserve his concern or assistance.

Bill gripped my shoulder briefly before getting to his feet. "I think Fleur's planning to have dinner around seven."

I nodded, and he turned and started back towards the house.

That night when I went in for dinner, I found Bill in the living room, fiddling with the wireless radio on the table beside the sofa. He tapped it repeatedly with his wand, muttering random words such as 'phoenix,' 'Grimmauld Place,' and 'Shacklebolt' as he did so.

"Er, what are you doing?" I inquired, a bit concerned for Bill's sanity.

"Trying to get _Potterwatch_ on here," he replied distractedly.

_Ok, that doesn't really clear anything up_. "What's _Potterwatch_?"

Bill looked up at this. "I keep forgetting how much you don't know." I opened my mouth defensively, but he cut across me. "It's a radio show put on from a secure location and requires a password to access, as it doesn't exactly fit in with You-Know-Who's line. Everyone on it has code names, and they report on the news that the _Prophet_ and other media outlets try to conceal. It's a great program, but they're not always able to do it regularly, and if you miss the password for the next show, as I did last time, it's tricky to find. The password's usually something to do with the Order or Hogwarts, and I can usually hit on it after a few tries, but I can't seem to get this one." He turned back to the radio and resumed his tapping and muttering. I left him to it and headed into the kitchen, where Fleur was stirring a pot of stew with her wand. She glanced up as I came in, then looked quickly away, her expression stony.

I decided I might as well try and be polite. After all, she never asked me to barge into her house and impose myself upon her hospitality. "Can I help you with anything?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice light.

She glared at me suspiciously, and I wondered what ulterior motives she could possibly suppose I had. Then she silently thrust a cutting board laden with bread and a knife into my hands and nodded towards the dining room. _Okay then,_ I thought, shouldering open the door into the dining room and placing the bread and knife on the table, s_ilent treatment it is. I guess I prefer that to the yelling and accusations._ Fleur appeared in the doorway seconds later, directing the pot of stew onto the center of the table with her wand. "Plates," she said curtly, pointed back towards the kitchen. I ducked my head to hide a grin as I passed her on my way back into the kitchen. Though she undoubtedly preferred not to speak to me at all, Fleur was apparently attempting to use as few words as possible when forced to, which I found amusing. I wondered how long Fleur would be able to keep it up. _Bet Hermione could outlast her,_ I thought with a smile. But my smile quickly faded as I thought about how long it might be until I saw her again.

I spotted a stack of plates with silverware by the sink and carried them to the table. Bill came in then, looking frustrated, and I assumed he hadn't been able to find _Potterwatch_ on the radio. I was a little disappointed as well; it would have been nice to hear some real news. Bill remained irritated and distracted throughout dinner, and since Fleur was refusing to talk to me more than was absolutely necessary, an uncomfortable silence grew between the three of us. I shoveled down my food as quickly as possible and hurriedly excused myself from the table, anxious to escape the tension-filled room.


	6. Potterwatch

**Chapter 6: Potterwatch**

The days slipped slowly by and the weather turned colder, foretelling winter's approach. Often, Bill or Fleur was out doing work for the Order or attending Order meetings. I spent my days taking long walks around the perimeter of Shell Cottage's protective spells—Bill had pointed out the boundaries to me after breakfast one morning—or amusing myself by reading the _Prophet's_ absurd stories. If he was home, Bill would spend his time before dinner trying to get _Potterwatch_ on the radio, but it wasn't until later the next week that he was finally successful.

I was lying on my bed, playing with the Deluminator. Bill was out, and though she had grudgingly accepted my presence and apologized for what she'd said the day after my arrival, I still avoided Fleur as much as possible. I'd also discovered that it was somehow calming to watch the lights flicker on and off as I clicked the small device Dumbledore had inexplicably willed to me. I sighed when I heard the front door open, signaling Bill's arrival. Far from being unhappy that he was safely home, I dreaded dinner and its forced normalcy. I clicked the Deluminator a final time, releasing the imprisoned ball of light back to its source above my head. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and replaced the Deluminator on my dresser. As I was shutting the door to my room, Bill called up the stairs to me.

"Ron!" I was surprised to hear a note of excitement in his voice. "I got word of the _Potterwatch_ password for tonight. Get down here!"

I trotted downstairs, reaching the door to the living room at the same time as Fleur. I hung back to allow her to enter the room first. She gave me a quick smile of thanks. _Huh. Guess we're on better terms than I thought._ I plopped into an armchair near the fireplace, across from the sofa where Fleur had sat. Bill was fiddling with the radio dials. When he had them in the correct position, he pulled out his wand, tapped the radio as he muttered 'Sirius,' and settled onto the sofa next to Fleur as a familiar voice spoke into the room.

"Good evening folks, and welcome to another episode of _Potterwatch_!" With a jolt, I recognized Lee Jordan's voice. "I'm your host, River, and tonight we have several special guests here with us. Before we get to that, however, I'd like to start with the news that _isn't_ being reported in the _Prophet_, which is basically anything of actual importance."

I smiled, remembering the Dumbledore article I'd read the other day.

"First of all, we've had from a reliable source that You-Know-Who has begun using Inferi in almost equal number to his Death Eaters. We remind our listeners that these are dangerous Dark creatures, and that if confronted with one, fire is the best defense. Once again, we stress the importance of traveling in groups of at least two at all times."

"Secondly, for those who were not able to tune in last week, we recently received reports that Fenrir Greyback has recruited an army of sorts comprised solely of werewolves. Greyback has been known to attack when not transformed, and it seems that he is training his new band of followers to follow suit." I glanced at Bill and saw that his mouth was set in a grim line. He was gripping the arm of the sofa with a white-knuckled hand. When I turned my attention back to the radio, Lee was saying, "—deepest regret that I must inform you of the deaths last night of Mary and Donald Prachett and their five-year-old daughter, Sophie. Members of the Order of the Phoenix have informed me that they strongly suspect Greyback's crew was responsible for the attacks, which occurred just down the road from the Prachetts' home. Once again, I would advise all who are listening to avoid being out at night as much as possible."

Lee was silent for a moment, then continued, "And now, I would like to welcome someone who I hope will become a regular on our show. Good evening, Royal."

"Evening, River," a familiar deep, slow voice responded.

"Kingsley!" I shouted, half-rising from my seat in surprise.

Fleur glared at me for interrupting, and I sank guiltily back down onto my chair.

"—to tell us something about the groups known as Snatchers, am I correct?" Lee was saying.

"Indeed you are, River," Kingsley replied. "For those who don't know, Snatchers are rebel gangs of wizards looking to earn some gold and perhaps curry favor with You-Know-Who by attacking, torturing, and/or kidnapping Muggle-borns, squibs, blood traitors—anyone You-Know-Who has deemed unworthy to carry the title of 'wizard.' While some of these groups are unorganized or rather—ah—unintelligent and therefore relatively harmless," I grinned at this, remembering the fairly easy escape I'd made a week earlier, "some are made up of ex-Aurors and even Death Eaters. As River stressed earlier, and quite rightly, one can never take too many precautions to ensure one's safety."

"Thanks Royal," Lee said. "I'd like to turn now to Saint for 'Peculiar Prophet Post,' where we examine a strange or amusing article printed in the _Daily Prophet_."

"Good evening, folks." With another jolt of shock, I heard my brother George's voice issuing from the radio. "First of all, I would like to commend you, River, on your superb hosting job."

"Why, thanks very much, that's very kind of you," Lee replied.

"Don't mention it. Right, I found today's story the day after our last show, and I have to say, I think this piece was written expressly for this segment of the show. The headline reads "Hogwarts Under Best Headmaster This Century," which is of course referring to the former Potions master we all know and love: Severus Snape. It's a fairly long article—I mean, who wouldn't be able to write endlessly on Snape's merits—so I'll just quote a few of my favorite passages.

"The first is as follows: 'Severus Snape has taken Hogwarts in a promising new direction.' I'll agree with the 'new' part, but promising? Promising for those who hope their kids will turn out to be cynical, lonely gits, I guess. Well, maybe the students will return the favor and lead Snape in a promising new direction, the direction of the showers."

I found myself laughing for the first time in ages. It had been so long that my laughter sounded foreign to my ears.

"Here's the second quote," George continued. "'Snape exemplifies many of the qualities the original founders strove to instill in their students.' Let's see—ambitious, cunning, ruthless—kinda sounds like the qualities of _one _of the founders; however, if memory serves me, there were four. But I guess I shouldn't be _too_ hard on Snape. I mean, Headmaster can't be an easy job, and I'm sure Snape works very hard to make sure silly notions like loyalty and morals don't have too much of an upper hand in the students' minds. That said, I would like to leave you all with a final quote; this is actually the sub-heading of the article, which I think is quite telling—telling of what, though, I'm not really sure. Anyway, here goes. 'Severus Snape: A Friend to All.' I almost cannot read that with a straight face. I mean, has the author of this article actually _met_ the man? I don't think he's ever been matey with anyone, not even his favorite students. Well, that's all for me this week, so I'll turn it back to you, River."

"As always, it's a pleasure to have you on our show, Saint."

"The pleasure's all mine," George replied.

Lee continued, "It's time now for our new segment, 'Pals of Potter.' Over to you, Romulus."

"Thank you, River," another familiar voice replied. _Lupin!_ I realized. I recalled our last meeting and wondered if he'd gone back to Tonks after his furious departure.

"Oh, by the way, Fleur, I invited Lupin and Tonks over for dinner next week," Bill whispered, answering my question. Happy as I was that they were back together, I dreaded their addition to the group of people who knew of my disgraceful behavior.

"—concerned that no one has heard from Harry in several months?" Lee was asking.

"On the contrary, River, I think that, in this case, no news is good news," Lupin replied. "If Harry had been captured or killed, I am confidant that You-Know-Who would not hesitate to spread the news. We all know that Harry is You-Know-Who's number one target, and in light of that I believe that secrecy and concealment are in Harry's best interests."

"Many believe that Dumbledore entrusted Harry with some sort of mission before he died. Is that true?"

"I believe it is, yes."

"And what would you say to those who think Harry is incapable of fulfilling such a mission?"

"I would say that Harry is an incredibly talented and intelligent young man. I hope I speak for all those supporting him as well as myself when I say that I have complete confidence in his instincts and abilities. I know that some would find such trust foolish, but I believe that in these troubled times, hope is our strongest ally. For me, Harry is a symbol of that hope."

"Well put, Romulus," Lee said. "I'm afraid that's all we have time for tonight, folks, so thanks for listening to _Potterwatch_. As always, I'm not sure when we will be able to broadcast again, but the password for next time is _Hogwarts_. Good night."

**A/N: So, I haven't asked for any reviews yet, but I really want to know what y'all thought of my attempt at creating a **_**Potterwatch**_** episode! It was surprisingly hard to think of stuff to write without it sounding too much like JKR's. Hopefully it didn't suck—if you didn't think it did, please leave a review to let me know! I guess I can't stop you from leaving one if you DID think it sucked, either….**

**Also, to all the Snape fans: Sorry for all the cracks at Snape. I think he was really brave and deserves major kudos for tricking Voldemort! But alas, no one knows his true colors at this point.**

**MadAboutStories—sorry this chapter title wasn't as creative as the rest ;)**


	7. I gotta spend less time inside my head

**Chapter 7: I gotta spend less time inside my head**

After that first one, we checked the radio every night for the next episode of _Potterwatch_. Over the next week, we heard three more, each carrying more news of tragic deaths—thankfully no one we knew—and the general atmosphere of fear Voldemort and his Death Eaters were effectively creating. The broadcasts were prevented from being too grim by George's news segment. I found it slightly ironic that I had laughed more in the weeks _after_ I'd deserted Harry and Hermione than I had when we were together. _Not that we'd had anything to laugh about—weeks of frustratingly fruitless searches around the countryside, constantly worrying about being discovered, and having to wear that bloody Horcrux._

Though I knew it was immature to try and remove the blame from myself, I couldn't help but wonder if the locket had had some influence on the way I'd acted. It seemed like every time I'd put it on, I hadn't been able to shut out the bitter thoughts or stop myself from wondering why I had agreed to come along in the first place. _No one forced you to come,_ that nasty voice inside me would whisper. _You chose to join Harry on his mission. And you could just as easily choose to leave._ Which is exactly what I had done. Did that mean that my malicious side had won? My unwillingness to answer that question was the reason I desperately wished that the Horcrux had played a role in my desertion. _I mean, look at what the diary did to Ginny._ I knew the situations were completely different, but they shared a common foundation. _Either way, it's just another reason Harry was chosen to defeat Voldemort and not me. Even if the Horcrux was partially to blame, it still doesn't excuse my behavior. Didn't Harry and Hermione wear it just as much as I did?_

One part of me worried that I was worthy of Fleur's accusation, that I had somehow jeopardized the mission Dumbledore had set Harry. Perhaps Dumbledore had included me in his will because I was an essential element in the defeat of Voldemort. But a bigger part of me wondered if maybe he'd known all along that I'd leave Harry eventually. Countless times each day I considered whether they were getting on better without me. Maybe without my constant complaining to distract them, they'd found a clue concerning the location of Gryffindor's sword, or discovered where another Horcrux was hidden. I wished that I hadn't scoffed at the idea of Hogwarts as a hiding place. Then at least I'd have an idea of somewhere they might possibly turn up. _Maybe I'll go back there after the Christmas holidays, just in case. I can't stay here forever. At the very least, school would give me something to focus on. Wow, can't believe I actually wish I had homework to do._ But it was true. I felt completely useless loafing around at Bill and Fleur's, a feeling that intensified whenever either of them left on some assignment for the Order. And though Bill waved away my endless apologies for the tension my presence caused between him and Fleur, I was sure that I had interrupted the pattern of their lives in other ways as well. My suspicions were confirmed one night at dinner.

"I spoke with Mum today, and she invited Fleur and I home for Christmas," Bill said casually, breaking the silence that usually dominated the meal. "But I told here we'd be staying here for the holidays."

I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth. "Did you tell here I was here?" I asked fearfully.

"Ron, come on, what do you think?" Bill asked exasperatedly. "Of course not. I just told her Fleur and I wanted to spend our first Christmas alone."

"You didn't have to do that," I protested. "I'd be fine here by myself."

Bill shook his head. "No, you are not spending Christmas alone," he said emphatically.

"Okay, well, thanks," I mumbled. "Sorry," I added, looking at Fleur.

"Eet eez all right," she replied stiffly. "I would rather be 'ere zen 'ave to leesten to zat Celestina Warbeck."

I was so shocked that she had spoken _two whole sentences_ to me that I didn't reply. _She must really hate Celestina if she'd rather be stuck here with me._

The first snow began to fall at breakfast on the day that Lupin and Tonks were coming for dinner. Huge flakes fell from the sky, sparkling in the sun as they slowly dusted everything white. A good six inches had accumulated by late afternoon, and I couldn't resist pulling on my coat and stepping outside. The wind stung my cheeks and the air had that clean, crisp smell only the first snow can bring.

I inhaled deeply and was just thinking how peaceful snow made the world look when something hard and cold smacked the side of my head. I stumbled sideways, cursing, and heard laughter in the direction the snowball had come from. I turned to see Bill grinning at me.

"Oh, you are dead," I warned, leaning down to scoop snow into my hands. When I looked up, Bill had already started running. "Yeah, you run away," I muttered. I chased after him, packing the snow in my hands into a hard ball as I went. When I was close enough, I lobbed my snowball at him, smiling as it made a satisfying _thump_ on the back of his head. Bill turned to face me, and we squared off against each other for several furious minutes. When we were soaked through from melted snow and our hands were smarting with cold, we called a truce.

"It's been too long since I've done that," Bill panted, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we walked back to the house.

"Yeah, me too," I agreed, trying to remember the last time I'd had a snowball fight. What immediately came to mind was the one Harry, Hermione, Fred, George and I had had before the Yule Ball in our fourth year. As I reminisced about happier times, I was surprised and embarrassed to feel hot tears rolling down my cheeks. Luckily, they were disguised by the melted snow and I was able to wipe them off on the pretext of drying the snow from my face without Bill becoming suspicious. I managed to pull myself together a bit before we entered the cottage. Fleur immediately ordered us to change for dinner and I seized upon the chance to escape to my room. Once there, I took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed several times to clear the lump that had formed in my throat. _What is wrong with me? Getting all emotional over a snowball fight; honestly!_ I changed out of my wet things and hung them over the heater, then grabbed a towel from the closet in the hall to dry my hair. As I was combing it out into some semblance of order, the front door opened, announcing Lupin and Tonks's arrival. I heard them exchanging muffled calls of greeting with Bill and Fleur. Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I pushed open my bedroom door. _Here goes nothing._

**Flo des bois—Sorry Lupin and Tonks weren't in this chapter! As you can tell by the end, they'll definitely be in the next one!**


	8. Better than expected

**Chapter 8: Better than expected**

I paused at the bottom of the stairs, listening to the conversation in the next room. I didn't know if Bill had told Lupin and Tonks I was here, and I sure as hell didn't want to do all the explaining.

"—feels horrible about it, I know he does, so go easy on him, all right?" Bill was saying.

"Of course," Tonks answered.

Lupin didn't reply, at least not audibly, and I bristled defensively. _I expected him of all people to understand, since he nearly did the same thing to Tonks!_ Not that I was planning on bringing this up, at least not straight off. I cleared my throat to announce my presence as I entered the living room. I met Lupin's eyes briefly, and he gave me a small smile, which I returned.

"Wotcher, Ron," Tonks said with a wink. My eyes were drawn, not to her characteristic bubblegum-pink hair, but to her swollen stomach. I hadn't expected her pregnancy to be so noticeable. Tonks noted the direction of my gaze and a small frown appeared between her eyes. "You _did_ know I was pregnant, right?"

"Er, yeah," I answered with a half-glance at Lupin, who avoided my eyes. "I just didn't think—I mean . . ." I trailed off, my ears reddening.

"You didn't expect me to be this huge?" Tonks said with a smile, eyes twinkling.

"Something like that," I replied with a sheepish grin.

Just then, Fleur poked her head into the room to let us know dinner was ready, and we all moved into the dining room. I sat down on Bill's left, with Tonks across from me and Lupin beside her. After Fleur brought in the final two dishes, she settled herself on Bill's other side. Everyone began passing the food and filling their plates in silence, until Lupin broke it.

"Arthur told me you're still doing some work at Gringotts, Bill."

"Yeah, well, you know how precarious the goblin-wizard relationship is," my brother replied. "I've been trying to convince them to come over to our side, but they really don't want anything to do with us."

Lupin smiled grimly. "I can understand that. We haven't exactly given them any reason to trust wizards in the past."

"Well, the one good thing is, most of them aren't interested in joining You-Know-Who either," Bill continued.

Tonks leaned across the table towards me. "I don't know about you, but I didn't come here to talk about the war," she said with a grimace.

I gave a noncommittal jerk of my head; in truth, I'd have liked to hear more about the Order's involvement.

"What have you been up to lately?" Tonks asked. Then she winced. "Sorry, that was a stupid question. Well, I wish I could entertain you with interesting stories of what I've been doing, but the truth is, everyone—especially Remus—has been telling me to 'take it easy.'" She rolled her eyes. "I've been bored out of my mind at home, and it's been frustrating to feel so useless."

"I know what you mean," I said without thinking.

She gave me a shrewd look. "Yeah, I'll bet," she said, though not accusingly.

"Have you been to the Burrow lately?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yes, Molly invited us over for dinner a couple nights ago, actually. Ginny's home for Christmas, arrived just before we did. She told me a lot of horrible stories about Hogwarts." She shook her head. "It sounds like they've almost got it worse than most of the Order members. Of course, we could only talk when Molly was out of earshot; she's already worried sick about everyone." Tonks stopped suddenly and looked at me closely. "Are you sure you want to hear all this? It must be weird to be so close and not be able to see them."

I shrugged. "I don't think any of them would want to see me right now anyway."

"I don't know about that," Tonks replied. I raised my eyebrows, but she didn't expand upon her statement. Instead, she smiled. "I saw the ghoul you dressed up to look like you with spattergroit," she said. "I thought that was a brilliant idea."

I smiled briefly. "Thanks."

Dinner continued in a surprisingly less painful manner than I had anticipated. I found that I enjoyed talking to Tonks, and I eagerly soaked in all the news she had about my family. By the time we moved into the living room after dinner, I almost wished I was going home for Christmas. However, though Tonks may believe that my family would welcome me back, if not lovingly, at least willingly, I wasn't as easily convinced.

Fleur engaged Tonks in a discussion of baby names, with Bill and Lupin participating half-heartedly. I listened for a while, then tuned them out and stared at the fire, my thoughts wandering to my family. I realized that one of the things I'd shouted at Harry about the day I left was his apparent unconcern for Ginny's safety, but today was the first time I'd actually received confirmation that she was all right. I hadn't even attempted to discover the information myself; I'd been too caught up in my own sulky, self-abusive thoughts. _Yeah, I _really _need to get out of here_, I decided. I'd toyed some more with the idea of returning to Hogwarts after Christmas, and now I resolved to do just that. _Even if everyone despises me, it'll be better than being stuck here, where time seems endless. _Then I frowned, remembering Tonks's words: '_Ginny's told me a lot of horrible stories about Hogwarts.'_ _OK, so maybe 'better' isn't the right word. More interesting?_ _I'm sure not everyone is taking it lying down. Maybe I could help with whatever sort of resistance they're putting up. Then again, once they learn what I did to Harry and Hermione, they might not welcome my help._ I sighed, and was just thinking that maybe I _wasn't_ so sure about returning to Hogwarts when Lupin's voice cut into my thoughts.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked quietly, indicating the chair beside me.

I shrugged and shook my head.

He settled himself into the chair and cleared his throat. "I wanted to apologize for how I behaved the last time I saw you."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," I replied hurriedly, embarrassed.

Lupin smiled briefly. "That's kind of you, but it _wasn't_ okay. It wasn't fair of me to ask you three to accept my assistance when I was offering it for all the wrong reasons. Of course, I didn't realize that at the time, so I'd also like to thank you for making it clear that I was being a—a, well, I'm not proud of the things I said."

"Don't thank me, I didn't do anything," I mumbled. _As usual,_ I couldn't help adding in my head. "Harry was the one who…you know."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "But you didn't disagree with him."

"No, I guess not," I replied, though that wasn't entirely true. I _had_ in fact admonished Harry afterwards for some of the things he'd said to Lupin. "But I can't really say anything now, can I? Not when I've done something just as bad, if not worse."

"I would hardly say it was worse. I considered leaving my own wife and child, for God's sake!"

"But that's just it—you only _thought _about it; you didn't actually _do_ it," I protested.

Lupin shook his head and said in a slightly exasperated tone, "But do you think I would have thought twice about coming with you three unless Harry had protested it?"

I shrugged; how was I supposed to know what he would have done?

Lupin smiled slightly. "Well, there's no use arguing hypotheticals. What's done is done."

_I understand that only too well,_ I thought bitterly.

As though he guessed my thoughts, Lupin said, "Ron, you're only—"

"Human?" I finished. "Yeah, I know. That's what Bill said."

"Actually, I was going to say that you're only making it worse for yourself with all your self-loathing."

I gave him an incredulous look. "You're not trying to say it wasn't a horribly stupid thing to do?"

"No, I don't think anyone is going to pretend otherwise."

I smiled. "That's exactly what Bill said."

"Smart man, your brother."

"Well, mostly, except he also said that Harry and Hermione would be 'more worried about me than angry' and that our friendship would be 'strong enough to outlast this.'"

"And you disagree?" Lupin asked, an edge of surprise in his voice.

"Dunno," I responded. "I wouldn't want to be friends with me anymore."

"That's exactly what I meant when I said you're being too hard on yourself," Lupin replied. "I think that Harry and Hermione would be offended that you have so little faith in their loyalty," he added with a smile. "From what I've seen, they wouldn't be so careless as to let this destroy your friendship."

"I hope you're right," I replied. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I couldn't quite shake the fear that had plagued me almost from the moment I'd left them: that my two best friends would never forgive me for what I'd done.

**A/N: For everyone who loves Lupin and Tonks (I do!) I hope I did them justice. Only two chapters left! Thought I'd let you know—it'll be pretty obvious after the next one that it's almost done!**


	9. Chapter 9 too many words again!

**Chapter 9: Who knew there'd actually be something happy about it?**

Though they'd only been here for a few hours, Shell Cottage felt empty after Lupin and Tonks left. If nothing else, it had been nice to see some new faces. In the week before Christmas, I talked over my plans to return to Hogwarts with Bill. He agreed that it would be good for me to have something to do, but made it clear that I could stay with him and Fleur as long as I needed. _I am going to owe him for the rest of my life,_ I thought ruefully.

The day after our dinner with Lupin and Tonks, we decorated the cottage for Christmas. As I directed ornaments onto the giant tree in the living room with my wand, I suddenly missed Christmas at Hogwarts. Though I hadn't spent one there in a few years, the Great Hall's twelve Christmas trees filled my mind's eye as clearly as though they stood before me. I realized with a jolt of sadness that I would never spend Christmas there again.

On Christmas Eve, Fleur cooked a spectacular dinner of turkey, potatoes and gravy, roasted vegetables, and Christmas pudding. I ate until I thought my stomach was about to burst. After dinner, we settled in the living room in front of a crackling fire, sipping mugs of eggnog and watching the snow that had begun to fall. After a few minutes of silence, Bill suddenly left the room and reappeared with a medium-sized package. He handed it to me.

"Here, Happy Christmas, Ron," he said with a smile.

"You didn't have to get me anything," I mumbled, a guilty flush rising in my cheeks. I hadn't even thought of getting anything for him.

"Nonsense," Bill replied. "Besides, it's not much."

I unwrapped the package and opened the box within. Inside was a small wireless radio.

"For listening to _Potterwatch._ I thought you could take it with you, just in case."

_In case I ever found Harry and Hermione again_. "Thanks," I said, my throat tight. Tears stung the back of my eyes, and I looked down, pretending to examine the radio while I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes. _What is wrong with me lately? Well, several things. But first I get emotional about a stupid snowball fight, and now I'm practically in tears over a Christmas present!_ I suddenly felt drained and exhausted, and announced that I was going to bed. Once I was lying down, however, I was immediately wide awake. I tossed and turned for hours before finally falling into a fitful sleep.

_Harry and Hermione were walking along a wooded path about a hundred yards in front of me. I opened my mouth to call out to them, but no sound issued from my throat. Suddenly, Voldemort stepped out onto the path in front of me. He was facing away from me, but I saw him pull out his wand and begin to stalk after my friends, neither of whom seemed to sense his presence behind them. I tried to shout a warning, but once again, my voice stuck in my throat. I started to run, no clear purpose in my mind except that I had to stop Voldemort. But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn't seem to move. Ahead of me, I saw Harry turn around. His eyes widened in fear as he looked into Voldemort's face . . ._

I just managed not to cry out as I woke in a cold sweat, breathing as though I actually had been running. I jumped up from my bed and began to pace the room, grabbing the Deluminator off my dresser as I passed it. I'd taken to using it to shut off the lights before bed, and I clicked it now to release the trapped light. I was able to breathe easier once the light had expelled the dark shadows from the room. I squinted out of the window; I could just make out the outline of the rocks on the seaside cliff beside Shell Cottage. _Must be near dawn._ I thought back to my dream, wondering what had brought it on. _I've been thinking about them almost constantly for three weeks, but this is the first time I've dreamed about Harry or Hermione. _Just as my heartbeat was finally returning to normal, I heard something that nearly gave me a heart attack.

"Ron."

The voice seemed to issue from the Deluminator in my hand. I stared at it, my heart pounding loudly. I wondered if I was going crazy, or if my sleep-deprived mind had simply imagined the voice. It had been so long since I'd heard it . . .

For several minutes, I stood stock still, willing the Deluminator to speak again. When I realized what I was doing, I laughed weakly. _Wishing inanimate objects would talk to me—I must be losing my mind._ Feeling inexplicably disappointed, I clicked the Deluminator to put out the lights. I turned to go back to bed, and froze again almost immediately. Floating in midair outside my window was a pulsing blue orb of light. Excitement exploded in the pit of my stomach. _This is it!_ For reasons I couldn't quite explain, I was convinced that this weird light was the key to finding Harry and Hermione.

I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to organize my thoughts, which were zooming excitedly around my head like Pig after a delivery. _Right. First things first._ I grabbed my rucksack from under my bed and started shoving the little I'd unpacked back into it. As I did so, I kept glancing at the window, afraid that the light would disappear if I took too long. After wrapping my new radio in a couple of shirts and adding it to the rucksack, I bolted out of my room. I was halfway down the stairs when I realized I couldn't just leave without letting Bill and Fleur know where I was going. I ran back up to my room, snatched a spare piece of parchment and a quill from the desk, and scribbled a hurried explanation.

_Found a way to get back to Harry and Hermione. No time to explain here—_after all, I didn't understand it myself—_but I promise I'll tell you about it when I see you next. Thanks for everything; it meant more to me than I can possibly say. Sorry I was such a bother, and sorry I couldn't say a proper goodbye._

_Ron_

_Oh, and Happy Christmas!_

I trotted down the stairs once more, slipping the Deluminator into my pocket as I went. I grabbed some leftovers from Christmas dinner, just in case, and let myself out of the back door, taking care to shut it firmly behind me. The dull grey light of dawn lit up the yard, and I saw the blue light begin to descend from my window. It stopped briefly in front of me, then bobbed up and down in what I swear was a beckoning gesture. I followed it as it led me behind the old shed where Bill kept his broom and gardening supplies. I laughed again, feeling foolish. _This better not turn out to be another dream._ The light stopped again, and I halted as well. It floated toward my chest, and disappeared through my skin. I felt its warm presence against my heart, and again knew, without knowing exactly how, what to do. I pulled out my wand and Disapparated with a crack that rent the silent wintry air.

I reappeared on a snowy hillside, and I knew immediately that it had worked. I was sure Harry and Hermione had to be nearby, though I couldn't see any sign of them. In fact, I didn't see a living being anywhere. _Now what?_ I pulled the Deluminator out and clicked it, hoping the blue light would appear again to lead me to my friends. Nothing happened. _Kind of expected that. When has anything ever been that easy?_ I tried calling their names, but got no response. When no other ideas came immediately to mind, I began to walk all over the hillside, never straying more than a hundred feet from where I'd landed. After several minutes of fruitless searching, I returned to the spot I'd Apparated to and sat down to wait for one of them to emerge from the tent. _At least I can let them know that the protective spells work._ Soon, I was shivering in the frigid air. I took out my wand and melted a patch of snow to clear a space on the ground for my sleeping bag. Then I rolled it out and snuggled down inside it. As an afterthought, I lit a fire, using the bluebell-colored flames Hermione had learned to conjure in our first year. They had the advantage of being just as warm as a real fire, but without the added worry that they'd burn out of control, just in case I drifted off. _Not that I think there's much chance of that._ Excitement was still coursing through my veins; I don't think I'd ever been more awake.

Around midday, I realized I was starving and pulled some cold turkey out of my rucksack. I was starting to get a little worried—how long was this going to take? _Should've grabbed more food._ By the time stars began to appear in the sky above me, I'd decided that they must have moved on without my noticing. I rolled up my sleeping bag and replaced it in my rucksack, extinguished the blue flames, and pulled out the Deluminator once more. This time when I clicked it, the blue light reappeared. It floated inside my chest again, and I Disapparated.

I landed in a dense forest, snow falling lightly around me. It was eerily quiet, and I shivered, remembering my dream. I peered ahead of me and saw a clearing in the trees. I walked to the edge of it and once again waited for Harry or Hermione to appear. After a few minutes, I noticed a bright white light out of the corner of my eye. I turned towards it and saw a silvery deer hovering in the air a few feet from me. I realized it must be a Patronus—_Harry's Patronus! _Then I frowned. _No, it doesn't look quite right._ A few seconds later, something happened that banished all thought of Patronuses from my mind: Harry himself appeared, walking slowly towards the deer.


	10. Today’s the day I’ll do something right

**A/N: This is it, the LAST CHAPTER! A lot of this is copied directly from DH or is pretty close. So, disclaimer: I don't own it!**

**Onward….**

**Chapter 10: Today's the day I'll do something right for once**

As Harry approached it, the Patronus turned and began to walk deeper into the woods. I saw Harry hesitate for a second, glance back at the tent, and then turn to follow it. I opened my mouth to call out to him, but decided against it at the last second. _Probably be a bit of a stupid move. He's not expecting me to be here, and if I heard someone unexpected call out behind me in the dark, I'd probably send a curse at them_ _without thinking. Then again, when he _does _realize I'm here, he still may want to curse me._

I followed Harry at a distance as quietly as possible, half-expecting him to turn at the sound of my pounding heart. Once, I accidentally snapped a twig beneath my feet, and immediately ducked behind a tree. But when I peered around it, Harry was still following the deer, oddly intent upon it. I had a feeling he hadn't even heard the twig snap.

After several minutes of walking, the doe stopped at the edge of a clearing. Harry began to run towards it, but before he could reach it, the doe vanished. Suddenly, the forest was plunged into darkness. A few seconds later, Harry was illuminated once more by light shining from the tip of his wand. He was staring at something near his feet, and soon began to pace around in a small circle. As his wandlight rippled over the ground, I realized he was circling a patch of ice. I frowned, confused. But Harry continued his pacing; a couple of times he pointed his wand at the ice and muttered something. Finally, he stopped, and I saw rather than heard him sigh, his breath emerging in a misty puff.

If I had been confused before, it was nothing compared to my bewilderment as Harry began peeling off layers of clothing, until finally he stood in the chill wintry air in only his underwear. Shivering uncontrollably, he lifted his wand and pointed it at the ice. I jumped as a sound like a gunshot ricocheted around the clearing. Then I realized that the ice patch had in fact been a frozen pond, for now chunks of ice were floating on a small pool of water. I winced in sympathy as I understood what Harry was about to do. Sure enough, he stepped to the edge of the pool, laid down his lit wand, and jumped. Seconds later, he emerged from the water, gasping with cold. He treaded water for a moment, and then his head disappeared below the water once more. I watched the pool intently, wondering what could possibly be worth such agony.

The seconds ticked by, but Harry didn't reemerge. Suddenly, a single, horrifying thought pierced me: he wasn't _going _to come up. Before this thought had fully formed in my mind, I was sprinting across the clearing, tossing my rucksack aside as I went. I thought I saw movement out of the corner of my eye as I neared the pool, but I sure as hell wasn't going to stop for a closer look. Without hesitating, I dove into the icy water.

The cold was more of a shock than I'd expected, but I quickly ignored it as I spotted Harry near the bottom of the pool, floating above the sword of Gryffindor. With a thrill of horror, I realized that he was wearing the locket Horcrux around his neck, and that the chain had tightened around his throat. Harry was clawing frantically at it, but as I watched, his hands went slack and his arms began to float out from his body. _Oh, no you don't! Don't you _DARE _die on me Harry!_ With the same weird sense of clarity that I'd felt when the blue light had appeared outside my window, I grabbed the sword of Gryffindor and sliced through the Horcrux's chain. Dropping these, I wrapped an arm firmly around Harry's chest and used my free arm to drag us both to the surface of the pool.

As soon as Harry's head broke the surface, he began to cough and splutter. Relief flooded through me as I pushed him unceremoniously out of the water. Then I dove once more to retrieve the sword and locket, before climbing out myself. I remained on all fours for a moment, breathing hard and shaking with cold. I struggled to my feet and saw Harry raise a shaking hand to feel his throat; the skin was red and shiny where the chain of the Horcrux had cut into it. Suddenly I was angry. _What could possibly have possessed him to leave the thing on?!_

"Are you insane?" I yelled.

Harry staggered to his feet, staring at me as though I'd sprouted an extra head.

"Why the _hell_ didn't you take this thing off," I held up the Horcrux, "before you dove?"

Harry didn't answer, just continued to stare at me. He snatched up his clothes from the edge of the pool and began to pull them back on, his gaze never once leaving my face. I cleared my throat awkwardly, wishing he would say something. I looked down and was slightly surprised to find myself holding the sword of Gryffindor.

"Oh yeah, I got this out," I said unnecessarily. "That's what you went in for, right?"

Harry nodded slowly, pulling on a final sweater and picking up his wand. Then, "What are you doing here?"

I had hoped this would be obvious. "I—er—well, I've come back. You know, if you still want me."

"But how did you find us?" Harry said, a small frown appearing between his eyes.

"I'm not too sure myself," I replied. "Anyway, I've been looking for you for about a day. I'd just Apparated here when that doe appeared, and when I saw you follow it, I decided to follow you."

"Did you see who cast it?"

"No. I thought at first you had, but it didn't look like your Patronus."

"Mine's a stag," Harry said, a little shortly, as though offended that I hadn't remembered.

"Right," I mumbled. Then I remembered the flash of movement I'd seen on my way to the pool. "I think I saw someone over there," I pointed to two trees at the edge of the clearing. "But as you hadn't come back up yet, I didn't stop to investigate."

Harry ran over to the trees and started searching the ground around them. "Nothing," he said as he trotted back towards me. Another awkward silence fell between us.

"Well, I guess we should get rid of it," Harry said finally, indicating the Horcrux.

"You think this is the real sword?"

"One way to find out," Harry replied, walking over to a large flat rock a few feet away. "Come here." He waved me over. I joined him by the rock and passed him the Horcrux. He laid it on the rock, the green-jeweled snake glittering in the light from his wand. But when I tried to hand him the sword, he shook his head. "You're going to do it."

_I'm sorry?_ "What?"

"You're the one who got the sword out of the pool," Harry continued. "I think it's supposed to be you that destroys it."

_Like hell it is!_ I shook my head frantically and backed away from the rock. "No way."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Because I can't! That thing's bad for me; whenever I put it on, I couldn't help thinking—well, stuff I was thinking anyway, but it made it worse! I'm not trying to make excuses for how I acted, but I'm serious, Harry, I can't do it!"

"Yes you can! I know you can; you got the sword out, and I know it has to be you that uses it! Please, just do it, Ron."

I bit my lip. _Did I come back just to disappoint them again?_ I took a deep breath and let it out in a _whoosh_. "Okay."

Harry smiled. "Right, so when I open it, stab it straight away, alright?"

"How're you going to open it?"

"I'll ask it to open in Parseltongue," he said, as thought this should have been obvious.

I gripped the sword with two hands, staring apprehensively at the locket lying placidly on the rock. Harry opened his mouth and spoke in the weird, hissing language of snakes. Then he stepped back, and I took a few steps forward, peering at the open doors of the locket. Two scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes had appeared, one in each side.

"Stab it," Harry said.

I raised the sword above my head. Suddenly, a high, cold voice began to issue from the Horcrux.

_"I have seen your heart, and it is mine." _As if in response, my heart began to pound wildly. _"I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible."_

"Don't listen to it, Ron! Just stab it!" Harry yelled, his voice echoing around the clearing. But I barely heard him; that cold voice had me rooted to the spot. I was strangely entranced by the fierce red eyes and couldn't turn away.

_"Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter." _My breath caught sharply in my throat. _"Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend . . . Second best, always, eternally overshadowed." _I was shaking now. It was worse than what the voice that had whispered to me when I'd worn it, because everything it was saying now was true.

As though he read my thoughts, Harry yelled, "It's not true, Ron! Stab it now!"

I raised the sword once more, but before I could bring it down, two figures began to rise from the locket's glass windows. I yelled and jumped back as the figures resolved themselves into Harry and Hermione.

"Ron!" Harry's voice seemed to come from far away as the Horcrux-Harry began to speak.

_"Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence. . . . We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption—"_

_"Presumption!" _Horcrux-Hermione repeated scathingly. _"Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?"_

"Stab it, Ron, STAB IT!"

It hurt to breathe; I wanted to run, to escape the horrible scene before me, but I couldn't. I could only stare, transfixed, as Horcrux-Harry spoke again.

_"Your mother confessed that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange. . . ."_ he sneered.

Horcrux-Hermione laughed callously. _"Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing to him!" _The figures' faces twisted toward each other, moving closer until their lips met.

Horror filled me, accompanied by a cold fury. I turned towards the real Harry, and our eyes met. His widened with fear. "Ron?" he said uncertainly.

I raised the sword . . . and plunged it into the Horcrux. With a terrible scream, the figures of Harry and Hermione disappeared, and the locket lay on the rock, shattered and harmless. Tears were falling freely from my eyes, but I made no move to wipe them away. Harry's hand flashed into view; he picked up the destroyed Horcrux, and I heard him move away. I let the sword fall from my hand and dropped to my knees, exhausted. I covered my face with trembling hands.

I felt Harry place a hand on my shoulder and stiffened briefly. He cleared his throat, and said in a low voice, "It was horrible, after you left. I don't think Hermione stopped crying for days. We hardly spoke to each other; with you gone . . ." his voice shook on the last word, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "I've never thought of Hermione as anything more than a sister, and I know she feels the same about me. I thought you knew that."

I shrugged. _Apparently not._ Harry got up, and I watched him walk over and sling my rucksack over his shoulder. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, sniffed loudly, and pushed myself to my feet. Harry stopped a few feet from me, and I forced myself to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice raw from crying. "I should never have left, and I'll understand if you never want to speak to me again."

Harry smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I _have_ spoken to you already. Besides, you kinda made up for it just now: you got the sword, destroyed the Horcrux, and . . . you saved my life."

"You make it sound a lot cooler than it was," I protested.

"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was," Harry replied. "That's what I've been trying to tell you for years."

We both moved forward and hugged, and as we broke apart, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from my chest.

Harry grinned at me. "Now, let's go wake Hermione."

**A/N: Well, that's it! I hope you liked it, and thanks for sticking with it till the end! And for all those who reviewed, THANK YOU!!**


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